Chapter 20 #2
“You may have been entitled to your father's wealth, but you are not entitled to mine!" Alice shot back. "Find another heiress to pad your pockets with."
"It is not yours; it is mine," Hackman snarled, grabbing her by the shoulder and leaning into her face. His fetid breath was nauseating. "I did your father's bidding for years and expect my compensation."
“I know for a fact that you were given a bequest in his will,” Alice snapped, refusing to cower before this snarling animal. “Have you already gone through that money too?"
"I did everything for him. I set his fires and sent his filthy letters and more. The pittance he granted me for my loyalty was an insult," Hackman snapped, stepping back from her with a nasty appraising look.
Alice’s mind snagged upon his words. “It was you,” she said breathlessly. “You targeted Marco's factory.”
Hackman laughed harshly and then performed an exaggerated, mocking bow.
“Indeed. I was the brains behind your father's wealth.
He never bothered to question how I did things as long as his coffers overflowed," he jeered, preening with his self-importance in a way that Alice found utterly repellant.
“Your father may have had the title and connections, but I was the one who did what had to be done. "
Alice felt a strange relief flooding her body.
Her father was not a murderer. While this did not change her opinion of his cruel treatment, it did mean that her mother was not the widow of a killer.
That relief was quickly followed by contempt.
She was staring at the man who had killed a good man while attempting to destroy Marco's livelihood.
William's father, whose death haunted her beloved.
She was not only staring into the eyes of a heinous murderer, but she was also at his mercy.
He had taken so much from Marco, and Alice would not allow him to take anything from her.
“While I am happy to know that I am not the daughter of a cold-blooded killer, I do wonder why you think such a confession will endear yourself to me," Alice said, her tone acidic.
“I wonder why you would believe I care about what you think of me,” Hackman responded, his voice full of self-satisfaction. “I have done great and terrible things for the Fitzroy name, and I deserve my compensation. And you, little shrew, are that payment."
Alice tried to hide the way her hands trembled with dread. Her only hope was that William had seen her and cared enough to alert someone to her plight. She wasn't sure how she would get out of this house alive or unwed if he did not.
“You are governed by your weakness and greed,” Alice said, trying to hide her fear behind bravado. “I would feel sorry for you if you weren’t so vile.”
“I am vile?” Hackman said softly. Then he lurched forward, eyes full of fire, his hands on either side of Alice’s head against the back of her chair.
She forced herself not to back away from him.
"What is vile is what he did with you. Raising you above your station.
He made you the battleground for his money and legacy.
Even in his death, he is the ultimate manipulator, and you are but a pawn in his schemes. A means to an end, nothing more."
“Be that as it may, I will still never be yours,” Alice whispered, forcing herself to stare into his horrible little eyes. “I shall never stand before God or anyone else and agree to be your wife. Never."
“Is that so?” Hackman laughed loudly, tossing his head back, and Alice wished she had a blade to slash across his throat. “Well, if you refuse, I will simply have to do more to convince you. I wonder if I will find you have already been deflowered by Alegria."
Hackman's nasty assumptions caused angry heat to flood into Alice's face. How dare he cast judgments upon her. "That is none of your business,” she said with venom.
“I notice you didn’t bother to deny it. Really, Miss Fitzroy, allowing a man to use your body outside the bonds of marriage is so very common.” Hackman whispered, his warm breath sour on her face.
Alice felt a flash of rage ignite within her but kept her voice cold. "What I do or do not do with my body is none of your concern."
“It’s about to be,” he whispered. “There is more than one way to get you to agree to marry me."
The leering look in his eyes showed Alice precisely what he meant.
She remembered the stories of the unfortunate serving girls he had abused.
She would not allow that to be her fate.
Without even thinking, she leaned back, lifted her legs, and kicked him in the stomach. He stumbled back with a growl of pain.
“Don't you dare touch me,” she commanded, with more strength than she felt.
Hackman glared at her and raised the gun, pulling back the hammer threateningly.
Alice went as still as a rabbit who had seen a fox.
Hackman smiled nastily as if he knew he had her cornered.
She would have to submit to this man, or he would kill her.
"Just relax and take it like a good girl. Follow your mother’s example,” he ordered, moving closer, wrapping a hand around her throat and pulling, forcing her to rise.
She gasped for breath, her hands grappling at his wrist as he squeezed.
“I assure you being taken by me will be more enjoyable than rutting with that common Italian.
When he discovers that I have had you, he'll drop you without a second thought.
No man wants to marry soiled goods. And once you are pregnant with my child, you will marry me, if only to spare yourself the same fate as your mother.
Then the money and the duchy will be mine. "
In a panic to breathe, Alice raised a hand and slapped him across the cheek. She had hoped that he would release her, but his grip only loosened enough for her to take in a breath and yell, "I will never allow that to happen!"
He tightened his grip again and snarled at her. Her breathing was cut off again, and her legs were trembling. She fought against him, knowing he could do anything he wanted if she blacked out. She tried to keep the panic from overpowering her and held her rage at the forefront.
Hackman smiled as he watched her struggle. Then he turned her and rammed her into the wall behind them. Her head smacked against the wall in a painful thud, and he withdrew his hand from her throat. He pressed his body against hers and caged her in with his arms, the gun pointed at her head.
"There isn't a damn thing you can do to stop me," he roared before jamming his leg between hers and grabbing her skirts.